


The Changes You Can't Predict

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Castiel is convinced his relationship with Meg is about to change forever.





	The Changes You Can't Predict

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diablo77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diablo77/gifts).



> Written as a birthday present for my dear friend Gabe (diablo77). Hope you like it!

The alarm blared, loud and annoying, ripping Castiel away from the comfort of his deep slumber. He groaned and slammed it with an open palm before rolling over in the bed, stretching his hand to reach for Meg. But the sheets by his side were empty and barely warm. Lazily, Castiel forced himself to open his eyes and confront the situation: it was Monday. He had to go to work. And his girlfriend was not in bed with him to try to convince him to call in sick and stay there with her.

A pang of something akin to sadness tugged in his chest. This had been happening regularly for the last few weeks. First he had woke to Meg locked up in the bathroom and vomiting violently, but when he had offered to stay home and take care of her, she had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t need him to baby her. Which wasn’t all that odd: Meg had always been the independent kind, ready to squash anything that might be perceived as a weakness. The only time Castiel had seen her cry was after receiving the news of her father’s death, and that had only been for a while. She had been a rock for her brother during the funeral and the subsequent arrangements of Mr. Masters’ earthly belongings.

Castiel admired her strength, of course. But sometimes he also feared it: a little voice in the back of his mind kept telling him that he needed her more than she would ever need him. He didn’t know why she stayed with him, even after three years of dating and two living together. He had tried bringing up the topic of marriage a couple of times, but Meg had laughed and told him that she didn’t need to spend thousands of dollars to announce to all their friends that they were in it for the long run. It was a nice sentiment, but it didn’t do much for Castiel’s insecurities. He was certain that it was just a matter of time until she walked out on him.

He tried not to think about it and just enjoy his time with Meg. But these last few days, she had been acting… odd. She was never one for effusive demonstrations of love, but lately she had been acting colder than usual. She never reached for his hand or playful tried to hog the sheets so he’d have to cuddle up to her to keep some warmth. She went about her business with a sort of absent look in her eyes and she was always distracted. He had to repeat his questions, sometimes more than once, before she finally answered to him.

He had no idea why that was. And he didn’t want to believe the day he’d been dreading all those years was finally drawing closer.

He shook his head to try to chase those gloomy thoughts away and got up. He found Meg in the kitchen, busying herself with the coffee maker and the toaster. He stood on the doorway, watching her without making a sound. That was always his favorite thing to do, just watch her without her even realizing, because that was when she didn’t have her shields up.

She was wearing an old shirt of his that doubled as a nightgown. It was long enough to reach her thighs, leaving her long legs exposed for him to gaze at. Her dark hair was a mess and she looked pale in the morning light pouring in through the window. Tired. Lost in thought. Her lips were tightened in a hard straight line and there was a furrow between her eyebrows. She was always cranky in the mornings, but this melancholy was completely new. She hadn’t been this quiet since her father’s passing and that was worrying.

But once again, Castiel refused to try to figure out the possible reason for that. He had tried asking her what was wrong, only for her to assure him over and over that nothing was. If she didn’t want to tell him, she just wouldn’t and there was no point in insisting.

He would find out sooner or later. And maybe once he did, he would miss the ignorance he lived in right now.

He approached her as silently as he could and gently placed a hand on her hip. Meg startled, as if she had forgotten he was there and blinked at him a couple of times before smirking. But it wasn’t her usual cheeky smirk, he could tell. It was forced somehow, as if she was trying to put a brave face for him.

“Hey, Clarence,” she told him. She stood on the tip of her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek before rubbing the stub growing on it. “Getting a little scruffy there, huh?”

“It’s the weekend.” Castiel shrugged. “I don’t have to look all that presentable.”

“Weekend’s over, champ. You better tidy up a little. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you come out.”

And with that, she moved away from his hands to pick up the peanut butter from the highest shelf. Castiel stood in his spot, feeling cold. He wanted to grab her, spun her around and kiss her against the counter until they were both out breath.

It was sad that he didn’t know if she would be receptive to that or if she would push him away.

Still pondering about it, he went about his usual routine of shaving and getting dressed. As promised, by the time he was done, Meg had his coffee and toasts ready. She was sitting in a chair with her legs crossed and the newspaper spread in front of her. Castiel sat in silence and watched her as he ate. Her expression was neutral, but several minutes passed and she didn’t turn the page. Her mug stayed hanging in the air, and she didn’t put it down or took it to her lips. It was as if she was trying to give out the appearance of everything being normal, but she wasn’t quite managing it.

He couldn’t take it much longer. He stood up, walked around the table and took the mug out of her hand to put it on the table. Meg only had time to look at him before he cupped her cheeks with his hand and leaned over to kiss her.

It was a lot softer than the way he wanted it to be. A lot more hesitant. He was still half expecting her to push him away, but she held unto his forearm and closed her eyes. He basked in her warmth, the taste of coffee in her lips, and ignored the pang of sadness that once again made his chest feel heavy and uneasy.

She smiled at him when the broke away.

“What was that for?” she asked, and her tone definitely sounded lighter.

“Do I need a reason? I love you.”

Meg let out a huff and rolled her eyes. “Sap.”

That was exactly the way he expected her to react. So maybe it was all in his head. Maybe he was just imagining things. If only he could convince himself of it, it would be much easier to walk out the door without feeling the impulse to grab Meg by the shoulders and demand to know what was going on with her.

But he wasn’t going to get any answers that way, if only because it would make Meg sink further into her silence. So he finished his breakfast and helped her pick up the dishes.

“Do you have to go to the hospital today?” he asked.

Meg looked up from the dishwasher and blinked at him, as if she had completely forgotten he was still there. Castiel repeated his question patiently.

“Oh. No, I asked Ruby to cover my shift.”

“Are you still feeling sick?”

“I’m fine,” she said. It was almost an automatic response. “I just… have things to do today.”

She didn’t offer any more explanations about what “things” these were and Castiel didn’t press her for them. He put on his trench coat and picked up his briefcase.

“I love you,” he told her again as he was headed for the door.

“Yes, you said that already,” Meg replied, but she stood on the tip of her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Have a good day at work.”

Castiel left with the uneasy feeling there was something else he could’ve said that morning that would’ve break that strange silence that had fallen between the two.

 

* * *

 

Castiel came from a long line of lawyers, which was why he knew exactly how demanding the job could be. That was one of the reasons that, after getting his degree, he had decided to start his own firm with his best friend instead of going into his family’s buffet. Yes, he made less money and some of his brothers had never forgiven what they perceived as an unnecessary rebellion. But the advantage of working at Winchester, Winchester & Novak was that he was his own boss and sometimes, when money wasn’t too tight, he could have the luxury of picking and choosing which cases he took.

Today, he regretted that freedom. All the things he had going on were moving slowly and the hours dragged on for what seemed like ages. No new clients came in to request their help and after the mediation of a couple fighting for their dog’s custody, he didn’t have any more appointments for the rest of the day. He regretted finishing his workload so early, because it left him too much time to think.

That might have been the reason he jumped at the opportunity when Dean walked past his office and offered him to join him and Sam for happy hour. Normally, Castiel would’ve gone home early to get a head start on dinner, since Meg would return late from her Monday shift, but since she hadn’t gone to work that day, he figured they could order some takeout when he arrived. And also, he wasn’t eager to face her taciturnity again.

“What’s on your mind, Cas?” Dean asked, once the three partners were sitting in a booth in the bar two blocks away from the office, with a beer each.

“There’s… nothing in my mind,” Castiel replied, a little taken aback. As a general rule, Dean avoided talking about any emotional issues.

“Good enough for me.” Dean shrugged and turned to his brother. “Told you he wasn’t acting weird.”

Sam clenched his jaw and half-rolled his eyes, the way he did when he thought Dean was being obtuse.

“You’ve been curt all day. Even Becky noticed,” Sam said. His annoyingly preppy secretary was the gossip of the office, she knew about everybody’s businesses there, so Castiel wasn’t surprised it had been her who had brought up the issue to his partners’ attention. “You know we’re your friends, right? Anything you need to talk about, we’re here for you.”

Castiel considered assuring them again that everything was just fine and there was nothing to worry about. But after taking a swig of his beer, he realized if he didn’t say the words out loud and soon, he was going to get drowned by them.

“I think Meg is going to leave me.”

The brothers reacted with absolute surprise. Of the three, Castiel was the only one who remained in a stable relationship. Sam had been engaged with his college girlfriend, but they had fallen apart soon after and Dean was divorced in amicable terms. He saw his son Ben on the weekends and insisted he preferred it that way because he had never been suited for the apple pie life anyway.

But Castiel always had the impression the brothers envied a little what he and Meg had. That sort of steadiness, of certainty, even without being officially married. Castiel had never told them about how deep down, he believed it was all temporary. And now that he was admitting it out loud, it was as if the dam broke. He told them about her silence, her distraction, how she kept putting on a smile that he just knew in his gut that it was fake. The brothers listened attentively and ordered another round of beers when they finished the first.

“I mean… it doesn’t sound like she’s mad at you,” Sam said.

“How would you know? Women sometimes are passive-aggressive like that and expect you to figure out what’s wrong with them,” Dean added.

“Very chauvinist of you, Dean,” Sam pointed out. He continued talking before his brother could protest: “How long has she been acting this way?”

“I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe?”

“And did something happen recently that would worry her?” Sam continued to ask.

Castiel was thankful for that. He had been so afflicted thinking about the future that he hadn’t stopped to think there might have been something in the past, something that had nothing to do with their relationship; that was affecting Meg.

“My mother’s birthday was a couple of months ago,” he remembered. “Meg doesn’t like going to visit my family. She thinks they don’t approve of her.”

“Well, what _does_ dear old Naomi approve of?” Dean said, and he had a valid point.

“It was tense, but not more so than usual,” Castiel continued. “So it couldn’t have been that.”

They spent the next half hour trying to figure out what could be bothering Meg, but they didn’t manage to come up with a satisfactory answer. In the end, Sam came up with the obvious solution: just asking her point blank what was wrong. Castiel knew it wouldn’t do any good. He had tried. Meg would never tell him what it was unless she was ready to tell him. Dean suggested something different:

“Just buy her flowers, dude. A nice bouquet of roses or whatever she likes. It’s a good way to apologize, even if you’re not sure what you did.”

Sam recriminated him again for his lack of sensitivity and reminded Castiel that Dean was the last person he wanted to be taking relationship advice from.

Castiel still stopped at the flower shop on his way home. He really had nothing to lose by trying Dean’s way of doing things.

Meg was waiting for him, sitting at the table and watching her cellphone attentively. She looked up and crooked an eyebrow at him when he walked in.

“You’re late,” she told him, as she stood up.

Her tone was cutting and Castiel almost wanted to cry out in relief. She was angry at him, yes, but at least this was an emotion he could identify.

“Yes. Sam, Dean and I went for some beers,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, I should have texted you.”

“So, those are _‘sorry I didn’t text you’_ flowers?”

Castiel had almost forgotten about the bouquet he was carrying. He put his briefcase down and walked towards her.

“Violets,” she commented as he put the bouquet on her hands. She sounded almost surprised.

“They are your favorite, yes?”

Meg slowly looked up at him. A slow smile bloomed on her lips.

“How do you even remember these things?”

She turned around to leave them on the table next to a manila envelope. Castiel waited. It was clear Meg wanted to talk to him, but she just remained quiet and pensive for a long time. Castiel figured it was time to grab the bull by its horns.

“I know something’s been bothering you,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “And I want to know what it is. Please, Meg. Just talk to me.”

Meg looked at him for a moment, her mouth twisted in the same hard line he had seen that morning. For a second, he was certain she was going to deny there was anything out of the ordinary, but then she took a deep breath and muttered:

“Okay. I guess I can’t keep putting it off.”

Dread froze Castiel’s inside as Meg turned around and picked up the manila envelope from the table.

“You remember when we were out of town for your mother’s birthday?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, with his mind raging. Had she come to the realization they couldn’t be together because his family was always so hostile to her? Had it been something they said? Because Castiel would kill them if that was the case.

“Because we got out of town, I messed up the appointment I had with my doctor,” Meg explained. “And I ended up taking my shot late and… well…”

She handed him the envelope. Castiel stared at it, still confused. Meg crossed her arms over her chest and continued to look at him, clearly waiting for him to open it, so Castiel did. A black plastic card fell in his hand and for a moment or two, his mind couldn’t register what it was, until he held it up against the light. Inside what looked like a dark cave, there was a small bean-like little creature lying on its side.

Castiel’s breath got caught in his throat.

“You’re…” He choked up and had to start again. “You’re pregnant.”

“Ten weeks,” Meg clarified. She let out a deep breath and stayed very still, her eyes on him watching his every movement. “Say something.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure he could say anything at all, so he did the next best thing: he took Meg in his arms and kissed her over and over and over again. There was a rumble in his chest and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was crying or laughing at that point. He might have been doing both at the same time.

Meg held onto his neck and for the first time in what felt like centuries, she returned all of his kisses, open-mouthed and happy. When Castiel finally gave himself a moment to breathe, he leaned his forehead against Meg’s. His cheeks were wet with hot tears and Meg had her eyes close and a look of relief in her face. It was as she had finally let go of a burden she had been carrying for too long.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure,” she explained. “I took one of those home tests and it came back negative so I didn’t want to tell you, because I figured you’d be disappointed. But then I kept having morning sickness and my period kept being late and it turns out they sold me an expired test, so I went to the doctor today… and well, there it is.”

That wasn’t what he has asked at all, but it didn’t really matter. He kissed her again and hugged her as tight as he dared.

“I’m so happy,” he muttered, fully aware he was stating the obvious.

“Oh, good. ‘Cause I’m freaking out a bit.”

Castiel let go of her and analyzed her face. She was still smiling but the creases on her forehead indicated she was still worried. He ran his fingers across her skin, to try to smooth them out.

“Why?”

“Cas, have you met me?” she asked, barking out a laugh. “I’m not exactly mother material.”

It was the first time in all those years that Meg expressed anything other than absolute confidence in her capacity for handling a situation. He brushed her hair aside and looked her in the eye so every word he said could reach her.

“I think you will be great. I think there’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it. I think this baby will be lucky to have you, just like I’m lucky to have you.”

Meg shook her head and Castiel wasn’t sure if she believed him or not.

“It’s gonna have you,” she replied. “And that’s a relief, because I don’t think I can do this without you.”

Castiel sank his face in her hair once more and let out another cry. He almost couldn’t believe it.

“I love you,” Meg muttered against his neck.

“Who’s being the sap now?”

Meg gently punched him in the shoulder before pulling him down for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

The alarm blared in the room and Castiel slapped it to shut it out. He rolled over in the sheets and reached for Meg, who was still asleep, or pretending to be asleep, with her back turned to him. He left a trail of kisses on the warmth skin of her neck and shoulder until she shuddered and sighed.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Clarence.”

“Good morning,” he whispered, ignoring her protests. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Are you gonna bring it to me here?” Meg asked and chuckled as she turned around. She looked at him with tired eyes and a groggy smile. “Are you gonna pamper me nonstop for the next seven months?”

“If you want to,” Castiel said, knowing full well she was going to take full advantage of that promise.

Sure enough, Meg reached for his pajama shirt and pulled him closer.

“Well, then, call Dumb and Dumber and tell them you won’t be swinging by the office today,” she said.

Castiel laughed as he leaned over to kiss her again.

The day before, he’d been convinced his entire world was about to change. And it did, but in a way he wasn’t expecting at all.


End file.
